


Country Matters

by theblindtorpedo



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: (its slight tho), Banter, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Tozer POV, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Victorian Trans Ally Thomas Blanky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblindtorpedo/pseuds/theblindtorpedo
Summary: “I heard someone say there’s a woman on this ship.”“Not hide nor hair of any woman, sir. I’d have smelt her out right away.”
Relationships: Thomas Blanky/Solomon Tozer
Comments: 25
Kudos: 54
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	Country Matters

**Author's Note:**

> this is straight up just porn. no bells or whistles. horny police come and get me.
> 
> The words cunt, hole, and prick are used to refer to Tozer's genitalia here.
> 
> Written for Terror Rarepair Week 2021

“I heard someone say there’s a woman on this ship.”

“Not hide nor hair of any woman, sir. I’d have smelt her out right away.”

“I’m sure you would’ve. You marines are all good dogs aren’t you?” Tom Blanky grins and palms Sol between the legs. He’s got him up against the wall of the armory which is not the most comfortable place for this undertaking, but on Terror it is one of the few areas with a goddamn door. For them especially, discretion is the utmost priority; were they caught there would be far more risk at hand than a sodomy charge. Still, the danger adds an extra flavor to the activity, like an unnecessary exotic spice, and in quicktime Sol can feel his wetness seeping through his underthings. He should be embarrassed for it, but it is so goddamn long since anyone has touched him with regularity, with familiarity, that he always succumbs to Blanky’s caresses with unbridled enthusiasm. Sol grunts appreciatively and the Ice Master kisses him, all teeth, trading growls of pleasure. Sol will give as good as he gets, grabs Blanky’s shoulders, and suddenly it is less of an embrace and now a struggle, all animal, pushing and shoving at each other’s mouths and bodies until they go tumbling to the ground. Blanky may be strong, especially for someone of his years, but Sol is young and he’s a marine and maybe he likes getting pushed around a bit, but when he sets his mind to dominance he aims to win. Soon he has Blanky down on his back. Sol sits triumphantly on his chest.

“You’re killing an old man!” Blanky laughs between the bracket of where Sol has pinned his wrists. “I’ll have to report you.”

“And if you do, will Captain Crozier look favorably on the games you play with his crew?”

“Francis knows well enough to let me do what and who I like.”

“Oh, so you intend to be the one doing, sir?” Tozer removes his hands, slides down Blanky’s body so he can work undoing the man’s trousers, freeing the cock there. Tozer licks his palms, sets about frigging him hard and fast. Blanky hisses and knocks his head against the floor.

“Lord, you’ll be the death of me.”

“Good way to go, I reckon.” Sol leans down to kiss him again, cups that noble face etched with more lines than a prized battle map. All the places Blanky’s been Sol knows he must have seen his fair share of men with cunts. When they’d sized each other up in the ship’s corridors, Sol might have peacocked a bit, but it had been refreshing to be noticed by someone with few scruples, if the rumors were true. The others who looked at him, he knew what they wanted, likely a big prick up their backsides. He’d done it before, with help, but he had no such instruments here. Tom Blanky did not seem like the type of man who bent over for other men, but certainly he eyed Sol with the plain desire to bend _him_ over. When Sol had acquiesced to the Ice Master’s advances there had been a brief moment of surprise, but that had quickly faded, and Tom Blanky had proved he had a hand for a lot more than just dynamite.

This new kiss is leisurely, a wet caress of tongues that pull arousal from deep within him as Blanky makes to remove Sol’s clothes as well. Sol raises his hips to allow for the last article to be flung away and then Blanky is grabbing his arse and jerking him down. Sol’s prick, as small as it is, rubs against the line of hardness beneath. He yelps, bucks forward, chin knocking the side of Blanky’s nose.

“Easy, easy,” the Ice Master says, and now his fingers have moved from massaging Tozer’s arse to probing at his hole, dripping so profusely there is dark stain on Blanky’s sleeve. Sol whines, pitches back onto the questing digits, which enter him and begin to thrust with practiced confidence. Blankey’s fingers are thick and sure. Soon, Sol is quaking and panting, riding Blanky’s fingers like a prize horse.

“Almost there?” Sol can hear the hint of humor for the Ice Master has turned his wrist so he can thumb at Sol’s prick while continuing the slide of fingers along slick walls.

“You know bloody well I’m almost there. Just keep going like that.” He is not begging, but if Blanky removed himself at this juncture Sol might just crawl on his hands and knees for it. A part of him wonders if Blanky would like that.

“Has anyone else had you?”

Sol blinks through the delirium of lust. His hips stutter as he edges closer to climax. Hot warmth pools throughout and it is terribly difficult to focus on the question, but he scrunches up his face, concentrates.

“Anyone else on the expedition, I mean,” Blanky clarifies, “All I’m thinking is: it’s such a waste of a good cunt, to have it shipped off across the ocean, and the only one smart enough to sniff it out were me.” Blanky sits up so Sol is pulled into his lap and with the hand not fucking him, he drags Sol close to bite along his shoulder and the tender line of his neck. Sol groans against Blanky’s cheek, where silver and brown beard rubs against his own flesh with insistent friction.

“I don’t let nobody touch me except for you.”

“Oh, _Sergeant_ ,” Blanky croons in his ear and suddenly Sol is coming, hot and tight, breath punched through clenched teeth. Blanky pulls him into a kiss, this time not laced with aggression, but not languid either. Determined tongue quests to consume each whimper, confident in claiming its due reward. Each remnant of Sol’s pleasure must be imbibed by this man old enough to be his father.

“Gorgeous creature you are,” Blanky whispers against his lips, “What a sight. I do dream about having you around my cock someday.”

“Keep dreaming.” Sol says, but there’s no bite to it. He collapses down to rest his sweaty forehead against Blanky’s shoulder, nuzzles into the heady scent of the other man, a deep masculine musk. Sol knows he stinks of it afterwards, but whatever shame it should endue washes away in favor of satisfaction. To serve, with such success that the Ice Master keeps returning for more, that is a supreme source of pride.

Blanky will not press for his own climax, Sol suspects it has to do with age, but he will not risk asking. Regardless, it is clear that Blanky delights in all their encounters, in both his constant initiations and the dedication with which he brings Sol to his peak.

“Here up you get,” Blanky says. Sol is wobbly on his legs, but stands, collects his trousers and puts them on with as much dignity as he can muster. Blanky hums, pleased and content.

“Even when you’re not getting fucked still the best looking Marine in the service.” The warmth coursing through Sol’s body is now far removed from the pleasure of lovemaking. He hopes he is not blushing. “Do you regret it, ever? With your state it can’t have been an easy path.” Blanky checks around Sol’s fully clothed form, pats down the crimson front, tweaks a button. Sol is not prepared for this conversation.

“Not at all. Being a Marine’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That’s good, son. As long as you’re happy that’s what matters.” Blank tilts Sol’s chin up and tugs the collar an inch higher. “Now I’m all done here. You’ll pass any inspection.”

“Mighty grateful to you, sir. I’ll be seeing you then.”

“Yes, I hope you will. Have a good evening, Sergeant Tozer.”

He anticipates, but fails to avoid the slap to his arse on the way out, and he can still hear Blanky’s accompanying merry laughter long past his departure. Sol will get his own back next time.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't explain myself im so sorry. if you enjoyed this a comment and/or kudos would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](www.twitter.com/seccotines) or [Tumblr](www.augustinremi.tumblr.com).


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